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Poem by Robert Herrick


The Wounded Cupid


Cupid as he lay among
Roses, by a Bee was stung.
Whereupon in anger flying
To his Mother, said thus crying;
Help! O help! your Boy's a dying.
And why, my pretty Lad, said she?
Then blubbering, replyed he,
A winged Snake has bitten me,
Which Country people call a Bee.
At which she smil'd; then with her hairs
And kisses drying up his tears:
Alas! said she, my Wag! if this
Such a pernicious torment is:
Come, tel me then, how great's the smart
Of those, thou woundest with thy Dart! 



Robert Herrick


Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. To Sapho
  2. His Teares to Thamasis
  3. On Himself (Lost to the world; lost to myself)
  4. Upon Julia's Ribbon
  5. The Rock of Rubies, and the Quarry of Pearls


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